


Zig-Zaggers, Impossible Gears, and Her

by bibliothekara



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-17
Updated: 2011-01-17
Packaged: 2017-10-14 20:28:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/153150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliothekara/pseuds/bibliothekara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the bad days come, Amy always has some help to count on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zig-Zaggers, Impossible Gears, and Her

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for [Free For All Friday](http://community.livejournal.com/comment_fic/182769.html) over at  [Comment_Fic ](http://community.livejournal.com/comment_fic), for [](http://myconstant.livejournal.com/profile)[**myconstant**](http://myconstant.livejournal.com/) 's lovely prompt. I swear, I meant it to be Eleven/Amy, but it sort of got away from me.

Amy leaned against the control room railing and sighed. Sighed, and attempted to ease her own mental motor down several more RPMs. That, she could do; his motor was another story. She wished sometimes she could install an off-lever on him, a crankable thing she could oil up every now and again. And ooh, didn't that sound dirtier than she'd intended.

She loved traveling with him. Loved it, adored it beyond all measure, wanted to distill and boil it down into something liquid and sweet and pink. But there did tend to be days like this. Where the dark bits would catch up, and they'd catch up all at once. Where his snarky asides lacked their usual kindness, where his pointy edges would stick out at all angles and catch at anyone who happened to be near.

He'd never say it, of course, but Amy knew it when she saw it. She saw it, and it broke her heart, and it was one of the puzzles she hadn't solved. At least not yet. But she usually didn't have to; instead, *she* would usually step in.

Some zig-zagger would go out of alignment, some spanner would get caught, an impossible gear would turn possible for a moment. And then he would concentrate on that, jab at a panel or stroke a control, croon to -her-. Amy wasn't jealous; she'd just stand beside him, maybe putting a subtle hand on his shoulder. Point out another gauge. And things would move back into rhythm.

Amy stared up, silently giving thanks for the other lady in the room. The room who was the other lady, because Amy was pretty sure of that. And like most days, she swore she _felt_ a silent response.

 _You're welcome._

 ***fin***


End file.
